


the counselors caught us fucking in the bathroom again

by hunterwho, wanderingWisteria (hunterwho)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Adopted Children, Adopted Dave Strider, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Bro is dead, Con Air, M/M, Mexican Karkat Vantas, My Chemical Romance References, Not Summerteen Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Dave Strider, Slow Build, Summer Camp, Summerteen Romance, Swearing, Tagging everything I can think of, but like, ya feel?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-01-30 15:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12656223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunterwho/pseuds/hunterwho, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunterwho/pseuds/wanderingWisteria
Summary: a bunch of nerds at science camp in the woods, gayness ensues. centered around dave and karkat's relationship, and dave and john's friendship, and dave coming to terms with his life.based on actual, real life events, with a few minor modificationsthe title has nothing to do with the actual fic. i don't make good titles.





	1. who's this asshole?

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone actually follows my account then they'll know that i write short one-shots that i did at 3 AM without any sense of purpose or goal. this is NOT THAT FIC! finally i'm posting something of relative quality, with multiple chapters and everything! i'm very proud of it, which is saying something.
> 
> if you're new here, congratulations! welcome to this hellscape. enjoy.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you can’t believe you have to go to _summer camp_.  
After your bro died, you became classified as an official-sounding ward of the state, because you had the misfortune to be a minor and therefore legally incapable. You fought your social worker about it, saying that you’re totally self-sufficient at 13 years of age and you could get a job, you’re sure about it, but Mrs. Case Worker wouldn’t have it. She dropped you in a foster home with a perfect family and a perfect life, and enrolled you in public school, and needless to say, you haven’t made a very smooth transition. What else is a guy to do when he’s had barely any formal education, is used to piles of swords in the fridge instead of food, and is antisocial to a problematic degree? In any case, the Richardsons enrolled you in this stupid-sounding camp that promises to “explore science, technology, engineering, and math through art”. You aren’t a great artist, you’ve just been sketching in your free time, but once they found your private, personal journal- filled with drawings of wings, swords, and your Bro, they decided that you needed to talk to more people your own age, and the best way to achieve this would be through summer camp. You aren’t sure what their problem is- you’re not mean, just antisocial- but they insisted.  
“It’s gonna be fun, sweetie!” Mrs. Richardson coos, happy and bouncy while pulling into the nearest available parking space, tires crunching in the loose pavement. “A whole week of adventuring! And on the outdoor campus too- oh, it’s gonna be a blast!”  
You take your suitcase out, and by the time you’re finished rolling it to the check-in, you’ve already been handed a “camp badge” and a bag. You’re grabbed and escorted to your dorm by Mrs. Richardson, who’s apparently been to this exact same camp when she was little. Great.  
The dorms are a cozy place, air-conditioned and somewhat industrial for a place that promises sweet woodland adventure. You pick a bottom bunk at random, knowing some other guy will want to claim the top. You couldn’t care less. You don’t want to have fun, just survive.  
Once Mrs. Richardson is done saying her goodbyes and you’re finished evading her kisses on each cheek, she’s off and you suddenly feel very alone. Even though you hadn’t known the woman forever, she was a friendly face in a sea of strangers. You decide to not care, and instead absentmindedly open your phone, which leads to the first of many unwanted surprises- the dorms don’t get coverage. You don’t have service. You swear through your teeth and get to unpacking.  
Mrs. Richardson packed you a bunch of clothes, your charger, a sketchbook, a notebook, some pencils, and your favorite gel pen. It’ll work, you’ll make it work. Hopefully. She also packed snacks- some healthy granola bars that you’ll totally trade for some candy, and some red Airheads, because red and candy. It could be worse. Your sleeping bag unrolled and pillow unfolded, you settle in on your flimsy bed and start to sketch a crow’s wing, glancing at the door every so often to see if anyone new’s arrived.  
Eventually, the door creaks open and slams shut and who the hell’s this kid? Escorted by his dad, he’s bright and bubbly and blue, in an eyes-match-his-jeans kind of way. He’s wearing a Ghostbusters shirt and glasses, and he’s extremely dorky, and of course. Out of the twenty or so beds in this room, he picks your top bunk.  
“Hi! Nice to meet you! My name’s John Egbert, but you probably knew that from my name tag. I’m 12 and I’m very happy to meet you!” His buck teeth make his smile more perky than it might be otherwise, and he’s extending his hand in greeting. You just sort of… ignore it, because you don’t really know social etiquette here and you kind of feel like a dumbass.  
“Hey. Dave. 13. Chill.” You glance away and intend to go back to drawing your wing, but he refuses to leave you alone. Others might think it endearing, but you just find it a bit annoying.  
“What’s with the glasses? Light sensitivity or something? Hey, they kind of look like Ben Stiller’s. That’s pretty cool! Are you a fan?” You reply with a quick “yeah, nah” and go back to drawing, but he’s still peering over the edge of your sketchbook with that goofy grin.  
“Yeah nah? What does that mean?”  
“Yeah light sensitivity, not a fan of Stiller.” It’s easier to say that your eyes are light-sensitive than actually explain everything, especially to this stranger called John. He finally ignores you when his dad taps him on the shoulder and mutters something that even you can’t hear to him. He gives his dad a rib-crushing hug, and the dad departs the building. John starts to unpack, with a Ghostbusters-themed sleeping bag (of course this kid’s a terrible film nerd) and more shirts of the same design as the one he’s wearing now.  
Another few kids enter, all picking spots fairly far away. You couldn’t care less about who they are or what they’re doing here. One, whose name seems to be Sollux, has similar complaints about the lack of cell service, and his dad notes that he “was sent here to unplug”. Another, Eridan, seems to have a power complex, saying that he’s too good for this place. His mom shushes his complaints and replies that a little socialization would be good for her “little prince”. You thank whatever god’s up there for these shades, because without them, you’d be visibly cringing. Parental displays of affection are so… unnatural, off-putting, weird, creepy. You don’t like them, in any case.  
One kid comes in swearing. From what you hear of him, his name’s Karkat, and he didn’t go here voluntarily. You wouldn’t care enough to give him description, but his eyes- a bright, vibrant red- draw your attention. They contrast well against his skin, a deep creamy brown with black curls of hair framing his forehead. It’s a striking picture, and you’re admittedly more than a little intrigued. You take time away from drawing your crow, and draw one of his eyes, but it’s not as stark of a contrast without that rich red, but you keep trying to capture it until you hear two swift claps.  
“Now, chaps, we have a fun activity to do!” A British accent barks cheerfully at you, and when you trace the source you see what can only be described as a strapping young chap. His eyes are as green as John’s are blue, and he’s wearing a bright smile, a forest-ranger hat, a tan shirt and forest-green overalls. It’s a sight, to be sure, so you decide to climb out of bed and see what he wants you to do. As you make your way to the table, you hear that his name is Jake English and he’ll be one of the boys’ camp counselors for the week. You see some markers and paper, and almost get excited until he tells you that you’re going to “Make a paper to describe yourself! Write down some things that are important to you!” and you sigh internally. Just when you were thinking you might make it through the week and not embarrass yourself too badly.  
You hastily grab a red marker and write down, “dave. 13. pretty chill.” You draw a few record icons on it and tape it on your bunk’s ladder, to show people where you’re staying for this miserable week.  
Karkat, apparently, is staying directly opposite your bunk, with no top-bunk partner. He’s a fan of terrible romance movies and-oh my god, is he seriously a fan of My Chemical Romance? What is he, a 2006 emo kid? You’ll ask him later, hopefully, if he’ll talk to you. As you walk around to the various other bunks, you wonder if it would be impolite to ask about his eyes. The answer: Probably, but that won’t stop you. You note with what might be a hint of a smile that Karkat, after seeing that John’s favorite movie is Con Air, hastily scribbles down “I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE CON AIR” on his sheet. You also decide to add that “My Chem sucks” on your sheet, even though you sort of enjoy some of their music and- god, Dave, no, never, don’t stoop that low. In any case, it makes him angry, and he physically snarls. You’re sure he’ll have some choice words for you later, but apparently later might be a lot later, because Jake interrupts you.  
“Now, scouts, gather in a disorderly manner at the door! It’s time for dinner!”


	2. s'mores are actually pretty ok black and no, that wasn't a racist joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> opening campfire, dinner, fun stuff like that. dave opens up. *gasp*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh this drags WAY too much but i don't have a beta reader and sometimes i dont have enough time to rewrite an entire chapter you know. im sorry im a bad writer but i needed to get this up asap
> 
> anyways enjoy

As you trek down to the dining hall, you survey your surroundings. You could probably escape through the river that winds down just below the tree-lined bank, but from the bank to the river is basically a fifteen-foot cliff that you have no intention of falling down. It’s muddy from recent rain, and the chance of slipping is just too high. You could get away in a car, but you’d be caught by state police for driving without a license, and you’d run out of gas without money to buy it with. Escaping on foot is out of the question, because one of the camp’s many boasts is that it’s “hours away from any signs of life!”, and besides, they’ll probably take attendance at every place you go to, in case any kids wander off. Christ. You’ll have to wait out the week, and see if Karkat will talk to you at dinner.  
The dining hall is already populated by the time you get there- the girls’ cabin must have arrived before yours. You scope out the tables, watching Karkat sit down at a table with three of the girls. You stroll casually over to the table and ask, “Mind if I grab a chair?” One of the girls nods enthusiastically, and you sit down next to her.  
“Hi! My name’s Nepeta! You can sit by me if you want to, but make sure to leave room for Equius!” She pronounced her ‘for’ a bit oddly, almost like she was saying ‘fur’, but you disregard it. Who are you to judge? You’re much more worried about the guy tentatively sitting down next to her, who hasn’t said a word since he was dropped off. His paper had introduced him as Equius, and said that he enjoyed milk and archery, and from the way he’s sitting, he’s clearly acquainted with Nepeta. You decide to ask later, maybe, because time is limited and you said you were going to talk to Karkat. Unfortunately, he’s already been captured by the two other girls, who are both wearing matching smirks and pestering him about everything under the sun.  
“So, who are you? What are you interested in? What’s your name?” they ask in turns, leaving him no time to answer. However, their constant prodding is interrupted by the sound of a counselor, tapping on a mic and clearing her throat.  
“Welcome, campers! My name’s Calliope, and I’ll be your camp manager for this week! It’s very nice to meet all of you, and I can’t wait to introduce myself personally!  
You’re all probably familiar with Jane or Jake already- they were the counselors that supervised you while you got settled, depending on which dorm you’re staying in. You’ll be meeting the others in a little while, because at opening campfire, they’ll all introduce themselves! For now, we’ll be sitting at some of your tables and mingling, and hopefully you’ll get to know us- and your fellow campers- a bit better! For any more info, check with your counselors and look at the schedules provided in your camp bags! Nice to meet you, campers, and have a good dinner!”   
Dinner is served- pizza- and you observe the scene at your dinner table idly. Out of the five counselors, none deigned to sit at your table, and so it’s basically just Equius sweating a lot, Nepeta chowing down, and Terezi and Vriska- the two girls who were pestering Karkat earlier- laughing and talking about subjects of a malicious nature.  
You turn your gaze to Karkat, who’s staring into the distance at the river visible through the windows, about thirty feet down. You say quietly, “Dare you to jump.”  
“What? Are you talking to me?” Karkat looks at you quizzically.  
“Yeah. You should jump.” You gesture to the window.  
“I’d probably break something from this height, but honestly, choosing between that and these-” he gestures to Terezi and Vriska- “I’d rather jump.” You smirk, then berate yourself for showing emotion to this complete stranger, then decide that you don’t fucking care and would rather eat some pizza.  
The rest of dinner is a negligible affair- you tease Karkat for his music taste some, he yells at you and then the rest of the table- but afterwards, instead of going back to your dorm, you’re escorted down to an open seating area with wooden benches and a fire pit in the middle, with a sizeable fire going. You assume this is the opening campfire previously mentioned, where the counselors would introduce themselves, or whatever that counselor had said. You’re fairly tired, and ready to go back to your dorm and lie down, but you’re sure if you asked, you wouldn’t be allowed to. Plus, you should really start opening yourself up to new experiences, at least as far as your new family and therapist are concerned. Make a few friends, have a little fun, have a story to tell when you get home. You’re already stuck here, that much is clear, so why not talk to Karkat a bit more?  
Of course, as soon as you’ve decided, John blocks your path. “Sit with me, dude! It’ll be fun!” You’re about ready to push past him, but Karkat taps John on the shoulder.  
“Wait, you’re here?”  
“Well, yeah! I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me before! I was going to talk to you, but I didn’t get a chance!” When he sees your puzzled expression, he smiles. “Dave, you sat with Karkat at dinner, right? We go to the same school!” Of fucking course this nerd knows Karkat. Oh, how absolutely wonderful. What an amazing twist of fate.  
“John, Jesus fucking Christ, if I wanted to spend more time with your bucktoothed ass I would have stayed home. I came here to get away, not hang out with kids I already know and am currently very pissed off by.” The insult doesn’t deter John, whose admittedly bucktoothed smile is still as wide as ever.  
“You should sit with me and Dave! You don’t know him yet, you can make a new friend!” Before Karkat or you can protest, he’s grabbing you by the shoulders and making you sit next to Karkat, and then taking a seat next to you, pushing you into Karkat. You are in the middle of two bros and you feel extremely uncomfortable, but can’t voice your concern because Calliope is greeting you.  
“Hello again, campers! I trust dinner was as good as it would be back home? Good, good!” she says, although it doesn’t appear that a single camper has answered her. “I am, as I previously said, thrilled to have you all here this week to explore STEM through Engineering! Now, I’m not here to reintroduce myself, you already know I’m Calliope, so let’s meet your other counselors!”  
Jake steps forward with a grin on his face. “Hello, chaps! My name is Jake, and I’m the boys’ cabin counselor! I also teach a few of your classes, so you’ll be seeing me throughout the week! By the way, I also rule at karaoke,” he adds with a wink and a grin.  
Next up is a guy who could be straight out of an anime, with pointy triangle shades and perfectly gelled hair. He is so cool. So goddamn cool.  
“Hey. My name’s Dirk, and I’m the other guy counselor. I teach a few classes, and generally supervise the camp, and I’m better at karaoke than Jake.” Jake glares at him, and Dirk cracks a smile. “Which has yet to be proven.”  
After him, a chick with short, dark hair steps up. “Hi! My name’s Jane, and I’m the girls’ cabin counselor! I teach a lot of the more arty classes that Mister Adventurer-” she gestures at Jake- “won’t dare to handle. I’m also Calliope’s right-hand woman, so I’ll be running some all-camp activities with her.” It doesn’t seem like she’s done, but a girl with a bright pink shirt and platinum blonde hair interrupts her.  
“Hi my name’s Roxy and I’m Jane’s friend! Uh, girl! Girl counselor, I’m girl counselors along with Jane! We’re girl counselors and buddies!” Jane attempts a stern look, but it turns into a smile along the way. “I also run camp stuff with Dirk! I teach a few classes, but you’ll probably mostly see me at all-camp and meal time. Nice to meet you all!” She smiles brightly and returns to her place among the counselors. As she does, Calliope speaks up.  
“Now that that’s out of the way, we have the featured activity- the bonfire! Everyone will get to make s'mores and stargaze on their first night in the wilderness. Now, let’s do this in an orderly fashion…” You tune her out, and instead look at John and Karkat, who raises an eyebrow when he notices you looking at him and whispers “How do you see out of those things?”  
“You get used to it, dude. I can barely tell that it’s darker with shades than without.”  
“But it’s so dark out! How can you fucking see anything?”   
“My eyes are really sensitive, and I’m used to it. Like I said.” You can’t add anything else before John grabs them off your face, and you shut your eyes out of habit. You grit your teeth and say in a monotone, deadpan voice, “John. Shades. _Now_.” The only thing preventing you from shouting at him is years of being taught that emotion isn’t a Strider thing. Plus, Karkat wouldn’t like it if you punched his friend, probably. When you feel them being placed in your hand, you quickly put them back on your face and open your eyes cautiously. Nobody’s staring, which is a good sign- the first time you took your shades off, before you knew you weren’t supposed to, a kid started screaming. Then again, that was kindergarten, and kids are more focused on s'mores than your eye color currently. You resign yourself to do the same thing.  
The night drags on, and with it, you find yourself with more opportunities to talk to Karkat. You finally get to berate him for his shitty taste in music, and you both agree that John can be overbearing sometimes. You learn that he likes his s'mores blackened on the outside, gooey on the inside, and you have to disagree- lightly browned is the best. John ends up knocking both of your mallows into the flames, and you begrudgingly admit that blackened is okay, but definitely not as good as lightly browned. You find yourself almost smiling at one point, and then remember your training, and then decide that hey, Bro’s dead, you’re at camp, why not smile?  
So you smile, and you have s’more all over your face, and Karkat’s joking that you look like Santa Claus, and you feel good for once in your life.  
Maybe this camp idea wasn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dave opening up to other people? what the fuck is this ooc shit?!
> 
> also if you dont think smores are better black then you can square up
> 
> leave a comment and kudos please they motivate me to write more and remind me people actually enjoy this piece of shit called a fanfic


	3. i'm a ketchup whore and you should be too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a good dose of that "i'm not gay" song mixed with some Wacky Science and a #hotdogmention (diemen stans this is for u)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is up SOOOO goddamn late! i had author's block and then i had christmas and secret santa (check that fic out) and then new years and just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH  
> kids this is a psa: don't do writing. it's pain.

You’re walking back to your cabin with Karkat and John, joking with Karkat about John’s Nicolas Cage fetish (“It is NOT a fetish! I just think his movies are really great and I love him a lot!”) when Karkat decides to go ask Jake a question about the upcoming schedule. As he walks away, towards the front of the group, you hear John quietly say something. You turn towards him and he has a crafty smirk on his face.

“You like him,” John says, with his smirk turning into a full-on smile.

“Well, yeah, of course, he’s a cool guy. Pretty great. Glad we’re talking.”

“No, you  _ like like  _ him.”

“Dude, first of all, it’s a crush, we aren’t in second grade. Second of all, no I don’t, I barely know him and also I’m not gay.”

“Wait, you aren’t?” He raises one eyebrow.

“No, I’m  _ not _ , and even if I was, I barely know him. So don’t push the issue,” you say through your teeth. You’re not gay, you’re  _ cool. _ You don’t know how John might have gotten the idea. You decide to catch up to Karkat instead of staying back here with this loser, and you push ahead faster, not looking back at John.

Karkat’s still lighthearted, with the hint of a smile on his face, and you try and adopt a similar one as you get closer. Maybe he’d get a laugh out of what John had said.

“Karkat! Dude! You’ll never believe what John was saying about us.”

He snorts. “Oh my god, what was he saying?”

“He was going on and on about us being in  _ looooove _ ! Seriously, how do you stand him sometimes?”

“I don’t. But did he seriously think I’d be into a guy I just met?”

“Wait, but you’re not-” Your query is interrupted by Jake, announcing brightly that “we’ve arrived at the cabin, chaps!” It doesn't matter. You’ll talk to him later, and right you, you have to get ready for your week of camp. Which reminds you, you’re going to actually have to  _ learn shit _ tomorrow. Ugh.

Later that night, you can’t get Karkat’s bright smile out of your head. But you’re not gay. You’re cool. Just because Karkat’s lips are pretty cute doesn’t make you gay. Wait, what?

This is too much thinking. You decide to go to sleep instead.

 

Next morning, you awaken to a completely silent dorm. You were always a very light sleeper, and never needed much sleep in the first place- a side effect of living with Bro your whole life. You get your towel and change of clothes and head into the showers so you can be up and ready before everyone else is awake. The water is cold, prohibitively so for most, but you couldn’t care less. After your five-minute shower, you change into your clothes- a red-sleeved record shirt and black skinny jeans. You dry and slick back your hair into its usual style, and put on your shades to complete the look. Once you get out of the bathroom, you notice the rest of the boys waking up, sleepy-eyed and yawning. You saunter over to Karkat, who’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and greet him with a “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning, asshole. Did you even sleep?”

“Yeah, I just got up early to shower.”

“Christ, how do you get up ever? Bed warm, world cold. It’s simple logic.” You’re busy thinking of a way to justify your militarized schedule that’s not  _ I had an abusive childhood, take pity on me _ when John walks up, still in his Ghostbusters pajamas.

“Dude, you gotta relax! Sleep in, it’s camp, might as well rest while you don’t have parents on your ass about it!” You roll your eyes.

“Bro, I’m not saying a word to you until you change. I can handle a Ghostbusters shirt, but the full pajama set is overdoing it.” You hear Karkat snort, and feel pleased, as you’ve successfully veered the conversation in a humiliating-John direction and not an abusive-childhood direction. Social interaction is difficult, but you’re improving by the day.

Once Karkat and John are up and dressed, Karkat in a grey T-shirt that shouldn’t be his color, but definitely is wait what? In any case, John is wearing a muscle shirt that prominently features renowned actor Nicholas Cage on the front. You and Karkat laugh about it all the way to breakfast, where you three sit at the same table (thankfully, devoid of any meddlesome or particularly flighty broads) and Calliope grabs the microphone yet again.

“Well, campers, it’s your first morning! How are you feeling? Tired? Well, the day’s not begun yet, so let’s get you some food to pep you up! Today for breakfast we have pancakes with syrup and butter! Counselors, please serve your campers now!”

You turn to Karkat and say, “Ten bucks says she’s only like that because she has a private coffee machine in her air-conditioned, data-accessible cabin.” You earn another laugh and that’s two for two, and why are you counting? Just embrace it, Dave, embrace this strange human emotion called friendship, embrace it like it’s a long-lost friend and you’re looking to rekindle a strong bromance. Motherfuckin’ hug that bitch.

Karkat takes you out of your thoughts by giving you the pancake platter, from which you take two. You’ve never really had pancakes before, your foster parents are too busy to make their kids breakfast and Bro clearly didn’t care for you enough. Well, time to see what the fuss is about. You take a bite, and… they’re pretty bland. You must say, you expected more from such a fabled cake.

“Dave, you don’t eat pancakes alone! Come on, dude, what are you doing with your life?” John laughs. “Come on, put some syrup on ‘em!” He drizzles what you can only assume is syrup over your pancakes, and you take a bite and they’re gratifyingly better, good enough that you can laugh with John and Karkat at your pancake inadequacy. You groan at the fact that John prefers bacon that isn’t entirely crispy- who would do that to themselves?!- and generally have a good time, and you can feel the nagging tension you’ve had at the back of your head since you woke up start to lose its grip. You’re starting to believe, against all odds, that going to camp was probably actually a cool idea. Karkat is definitely a bonus, to be fair.

Classes for the morning are over pretty quickly and end up being pretty boring, at least, in comparison to lunch (hot dogs, where there was intense debate over ketchup vs. mustard and also Karkat was there, Karkat, generally.) In all honesty, you know you weren’t signed up for the incredible lessons they’d teach you here, you were signed up to make friends. Which you’re doing, by the way of Karkat and John. So you don’t think your foster family would be too angry with you for not learning a single thing in your classes, or even half paying attention. Whoops.

After the hot dogs, you have to head back to classroom hell for two more classes. You’re given an assignment- to mix some chemicals together to create light-activated paint, you guess?- and allowed to pick a partner, and you get to Karkat before John does, so he’s stuck working with a guy named Sollux, who apparently signed up for the wrong camp and wanted the electronics one instead. Poor guy wasn’t prepared for John, who bombards him with questions about his glasses and what browser he uses. You’ll forever insist that Hephaestus is superior, but you’d never spend time talking about what browser you wanted to use, because that’s stupid.

“So, Dave, gonna stand around all day or go get us our lab supplies?” Karkat asks. You grab your jars of chemicals from the main table, and grab a random color- it doesn’t really matter which one you choose anyways- and walk back to the table, potentially dangerous chemicals in hand. Good thing you packed your close-toed shoes.

“Now, class, let’s take our beakers and open up the first jar, labeled…” You tune out the instructor and look over at Karkat, who’s carefully uncorking the jar.

“Dude. I’ll give you ten bucks if you pour it all in,” you say in a low voice.

“No! Are you crazy?!” he whisper-shouts back. “We have to use the right measurements, or it’ll- it’ll blow up in our faces or something!”

“Relax. They wouldn’t give highly irresponsible teens something that would be that dangerous. They have rich parents with potential legal teams watching their children closely, there’s no way there’s anything even remotely dangerous here.”

“Still, I’m going to follow what Ms. Paint says.”

“Is that seriously her name? Seems a bit on-the-nose, don’t you think?”

“Shut up and help me measure the correct amount, assface.”

You combine the chemicals with no further mishap (although your motions of tipping the jar send Karkat into a near panic a few times), and Ms. Paint announces that the paint will have to cure overnight, which will give you “plenty of time to build something to put it on!” That something ends up being what you make in your next class, Whittling, which you don’t quite understand (whittling? science?) but appreciate. Your sword skills come in handy when learning how to shave off bits of wood instead of skin, and knives are just swords on a smaller scale. You make your wood into the shape of a dick, but only roughly, so if a teacher asks you can pass it off as a mushroom. Karkat makes a middle finger in a similar fashion, except he wasn’t even trying to make it rough- he just sucks ass at whittling. When you tell him this, he hands you his wooden middle finger and muttered, “Up yours.”

Dinner is… interesting. Sollux followed John- or rather, John followed Sollux- all day, and so both of them end up sitting at the table with you. Even though you don’t know the guy, you welcome him and John over the Scourge Sisters. At this point? You’d welcome  _ anyone _ over the Scourge Sisters. Meal of tonight is apparently burgers, sticking with the American theme, so you grab yourself a bun and a patty and put some cheese on top of it, along with a healthy dose of mustard and ketchup. Okay, maybe more than considered healthy, or socially acceptable, judging from the fact that Karkat called you a “ketchup whore” just now. Nonetheless, the burger is delicious. The right amount of greasy, and yet not so artificial that it tastes like McDonald’s. It truly is amazing. You even get dessert afterwards- a “tres leche” cake that Karkat seems familiar with judging from how happily he bounces in his seat. He devours his and then most of yours- too soggy for your taste- and then steals a bite of John’s when he’s not looking. The look on his face is nothing less than absolutely orgasmic. Wait, what?

Calliope’s two quick claps- a call to attention- rouse you and the other campers.

“Now, campers, it’s time to go back to your dorms and put on some bug spray and long jeans, because we’re gonna go stargazing tonight!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna try and keep the chapters at this length (a reasonable length) of around... 1500-1800 words i think? im happy with this chapter length. theres enough time for development and childhood trauma and yet i get to write karkat calling dave a ketchup whore too. so yeah what are your thoughts? tell me in the Comments! (and kudos!! please! im fueled by my gigantic ego!)


	4. fireflies and feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dave learns about magic glowing booty beetles, and also has a heterosexual mental breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't where i thought this chapter was going whoops! anyhow enjoy this feelings dump because i was feeling descriptive and thought writing sad things would be fun.

Once you make it back to the dorm, you watch as everyone changes. Even Karkat, who wears jeans on the daily, pulls a grey turtleneck sweater over his head. You follow him outside, where he puts on enough bug spray that you can smell it from feet away. You make a halfhearted joke about it being like nuclear radiation and he laughs. It’s nice. That is, until John comes out and asks who put on enough bug spray to poison a small city and Karkat laughs at that and you’re not jealous, not even close. You step back inside to grab your notebook and a pencil, along with more potentially deadly bug aerosol, and your cabin sets off for the aptly named “Star Field”.

When you arrive, the sun is hanging lazily low in the sky, vibrant red-orange hues painting the sky, and god you wish you’d brought your expensive camera with you, but no, it’d have gotten broken, so all you can do is look at the beautiful cotton-candy pink of the clouds and how Karkat’s skin is almost bronze in this light. He catches you staring, and smirks, the corner of his mouth turning up with a “See something you like?” You quirk an eyebrow and go back to looking at the sky, until John decides to steal your bug spray and start killing individual mosquitoes as they land on him and that’s just plain  _ disgusting. _

Once you’ve set John on the right track (replete with Karkat yelling about putting on a coat of bug spray  _ beforehand _ , Egbert), you’re free to go back to horsing around. The sun’s started to fade into its darker hues, lower reds with deep blue washing over the opposite end of the sky, so you decide to make the most of your available light and draw. You’re close to finishing a rough sketch of a crow from back home- Rainy, you called him, because he’d always show up when it was going to storm bad that night- when you feel a steady gaze from behind you. When you turn around, it’s the other guy counselor- Dirk, was it?- and he’s looking at your drawing intently. You make a questioning noise and he comes closer.

“Dude, your art’s so good. Who taught you how to draw like that?” You survey his face, and his intent seems to be more curious and less interrogatory, so you give him an honest answer.

“Taught myself.”

“Seriously? With that use of light and shadow? Oh my God, that’s so-” he muffles a swearword-    
cool.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Hey, you should try drawing some people. Skin’s a good way to practice for different surface textures, like that crow’s feet or beak.”

“Hm. Cool. I’ll try.” You’re not openly dismissive, but you kind of want to get back to drawing. Just as it seems like he’s going to leave, he leans in a bit closer.

“If I were you, I’d try drawing your boyfriend over there. He’s quite the looker, aesthetically speaking.”

“Wh-what? He’s  _ not _ my boyfriend.” You control your stutter, control your face, lock everything into place and make yourself stone, no emotion, nothing to lose control of.

“Are you sure? The way you were looking at him, I’d say-”

“Nope. I’m not gay, bro.” The words roll off your tongue, smooth as satin. There we go. You’re in control, Dave.

“Aight, cool, but if y’all need anything? Any drawing tips? Don’t be afraid to ask me.” You could  _ swear _ he winks under those pointy anime shades, but before you can start to percieve anything, he stands up and walks back towards the counselors.

Even if he was wrong about your sexuality, he was right about the drawing-people thing. The way the fading sunlight plays off John’s hair is oddly similar to how crows’ beaks retain their usual dull shine, and the many curls of Karkat’s mop are great practice for drawing the miniscule wrinkles all birds’ feet have. You get in a few acceptable profile sketches of both of them before John comes bounding towards you, holding something in his hands. When he reaches you, he opens them, and you see a small bug come out, with a glowing yellow butt.

“Dave! Look! I caught a lightning bug! Aaaaand there it goes.” His tone starts cheery, but tapers off as the bug flies away. You stand up and grab the bug in your hand in a flash, and when you open it, you see that you’ve accidentally crushed the poor guy. And now you have glowing bug juices all over your hand. You wipe your hand on your pants and look back at John, who’s now sporting a pouty look.

“Sorry, dude. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“I was gonna name him Matthew, and we were going to have a wonderful life together, and…”

John’s words fade out of hearing as you stroll over to Karkat.

“Christ, it’s nice out tonight.” The words mildly startle you; you haven’t heard Karkat say something so overwhelmingly positive or earnest for the entirety of camp.

“Y-yeah, it is.”

“The stars are really pretty.” You follow his skyward gaze and a few stars are indeed coming into view, bright white dots of light in a tranquil night sky. The last purples of the sunset are slowly but surely fading, the sun itself already long past the horizon. It occurs to you that you could probably take off your shades; it’s dark enough out to be able to. You hear your therapist’s voice telling you to “step out of your comfort zone” as you take off your shades with a small smile. Your heart is pounding, telling you that Bro would never allow this, but you shove that aside and look at Karkat shades-less for the first time.

Your first thought is “even prettier than I thought”; his bright red eyes seem all the more vibrant without the shades screening your view. His skin looks rich and his hair even more so, and you suddenly start resisting the urge to touch it. His nose, wide and round, curves gently out from his face when you look at him from the side, and his lips are gently pursed as he stares thoughtfully up at the sky. His eyes are framed by long, thick black lashes you couldn’t have noticed before with your shades on. Those same eyes are now staring back at you.

“Holy shit.” It’s more of a statement of wonder than a curse, although you’re internally repeating  _ Shit! Holy shit! No shades!! _ in panic. 

“Dave.” He’s quiet, quieter than you’ve heard him before, and he seems almost breathtaken by the sight of you without your shades. Maybe he’s looking at your eyes. Maybe he thinks they’re weird, maybe he doesn’t like them, maybe he doesn’t like you, maybe he’s scared, oh my god, this was  _ such _ a bad choice.

“Sorry! Sorry.” You rein yourself in and snap back on your shades faster than the crack of a whip. He’s clearly weirded out, and he hates you now, probably. Your face is freakish, pale beyond pale with blood-red eyes to top it off. You’re a freak and if people saw you, they’d hate you. It’s been drilled into since you were in kindergarden, and you were foolish to forget it now.

“Dave, wait.” His voice is gentler this time, intended to defuse. However, you’re stone-cold, and you’re not going to crack for this kid you  _ just met at this summer camp. _ God, how stupid could you be? Opening up is for people that aren’t Striders, and you are and always will be a Strider. 

“Nah, that was stupid. Sorry.”

“Dave, it was cool!” He seems sincere, and that really surprises you. You’ve never heard him describe anything as “cool” in his life, but that reminds you, you’ve only known him for a few  _ days _ . Dumbass, Dave, can’t get anything right.

“No, it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have done that.” You keep your tone cool and even, like you were taught, and for half a second, it seems to be working. But then he hugs you.

You try and flashstep away, like you do with most unwanted physical contact, but he’s holding you close and you kind of don’t want to go, is that fucked up or what? You need to get the fuck away right now, you know you do, this is the “flight” part of your fight-or-flight response right the fuck here, but some weird part of your brain thinks this is nice. That part of your brain is absolutely positively wrong, and you tense your muscles to get ready to escape and Karkat lets go immediately.

“Sorry. I should have respected your space but I just needed to convey that I get that everyone wants to look at the stars and I shouldn’t have been staring but you’re kind of pretty and your- well, you know, everything about your face is just so- uh- nevermind.” He’s kind of rambling and incoherent and it is in some way refreshing to know that someone else besides you is flipping the fuck out about these shenanigans.

“Dude. ‘S chill. Just don’t tell John nothing, ‘k?” You’re abbreviating a bit more than you should to stay cool, but hey, a dude is panicking, you know?

“Oh, I would never. Fuck that dude and his weird bad actor fetish three ways from Saturday. Let me tell you, he’s my friend, but sometimes I hate him too, right?” Karkat determinedly changes the conversation, and you’re more than happy to follow along.

“Yeah, I totally agree. Dude was showing me a little glowy bug-butt earlier tonight and said he was gonna name it after that McConaughey guy.” At the sound of the phrase “little glowy bug-butt”, Karkat perks up with a look in his eyes that tells you you’re about to be the little glowy bug-butt of a joke.

“They’re called fireflies, dumbass. Have you never been in the country before? They’re  _ everywhere.” _

“Well, actually, no, I haven’t, so I have no idea what these little lantern beetles are.” You construct this witty retort while allowing one of said lantern beetles to crawl onto your fingernail from a blade of grass as its yellow-green light pulses softly.

“I have never once in my life heard someone call them ‘lantern beetles’, Dave. They’re fireflies and everyone goddamn knows it.”

“Too late. They’re lantern beetles now. Wait, are lantern beetles a real thing?” You’d pull out your phone and check, but then your little friend might fly away, and you’re enjoying the tickly feeling of him crawling around in his current residence, your closed palm. Being careful not to squish him, you open your fingers slightly and watch the light spill out from inside, almost like that one scene from Peter Pan with Tinkerbell. Man, that’s cool.

“You think that little yellow bug is cool? Man, wait until I show you the blue ghost ones. They’re John’s favorite, too.”

You open your palm, and the little bug flies off into the night, glowing softly. “Wait, there are  _ blue _ ones?”

“Yeah, they’re super pretty! I’ll show you some after the campfire stargazing bullshit we’re doing tonight.”

You chat while John runs around catching fireflies, and when you get up to walk to the campfire, he offers you his hand.

You think  _ what the hell _ , and take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter might go up tonight depending on how i'm feeling, or it might go up a month from now! nobody knows with Hunter's Bizzare Posting Schedules :)
> 
> (real talk if u liked this chapter please tell me!! im thinking of doing more in this kind of "style" and this is kind of a risky first foray)

**Author's Note:**

> new chapters will be uploaded... as soon as i can write them without homework kicking my ass, so maybe some time next week. please please PLEASE comment and kudos because it reminds me that people read these and that i'm letting someone down if i don't do them! thanks <3


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